


Fight the Power

by thetransgirlwhoneverwas



Series: Fictober 2019 [23]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetransgirlwhoneverwas/pseuds/thetransgirlwhoneverwas
Summary: The Doctor and his young companions just want some downtime to relax and listen to some live music. Someone else observing them has a different plan in mind for how the story should unfold.





	Fight the Power

“Enjoying yourself Doctor?” Gemma shouted over the sound of the crashing drums and guitar strings being shredded during a particularly intense instrumental solo from a heavy rock band that the Doctor had been told the name of, but hadn’t been paying attention to, above the several thousand screaming music fans attending Glastonbury in whichever year they had landed in, he genuinely couldn’t remember.

“It’s very loud!” he shouted back, to which Gemma rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the vocalist she had been quite enamoured with, who started her very loud and intense singing again, much to the delight of Gemma. The Doctor turned his attention to Samson, hoping to speak to him, but Samson was far too busy admiring the same woman as his sister was. The Doctor smiled and turned his attention back to his book, determined to actually finish _The Time Machine_ soon. They were having fun, and that was what mattered.

His attention was drawn away from his book, however, when a sound rang out over the music and excited fans. A rushing sound, like something pushing an entire atmosphere aside in order to barge into the occupied space. The Doctor looked up and saw a capsule fly past, almost too fast to see. As he continued looking, a small speck fell from it, descending to Earth shockingly fast, accompanied by a low-pitched and very angry sounding screaming getting louder and louder as it approached the ground.

“UUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!”

Very soon Samson and Gemma had noticed the shouting object plummeting towards them, as had many attendees of the concert who were now either moving away as fast as the crowd would let them, or too entranced by the music and influenced by alcohol and probably illegal drugs to notice or even care. The object finally impacted the floor, leaving a crater and throwing up enough dust and dirt to obscure the Doctor’s vision of whatever it was, and bringing a stop to the music and supportive yelling as everyone tried to examine what it was. As the strange arrival stood taller, the Doctor recognised the black armour and pointed helmet.

“Uh, skipper?” Samson tried to get the Doctor’s attention by pulling at his sleeve.

“What is that?” Gemma pulled at his other sleeve.

“Trouble,” the Doctor answered.

There was a pause, then Gemma replied, “you know, that really doesn’t help us much.”

The Doctor shrugged, and looked up. The capsule that had dropped the creature off was still hanging in the sky, the occupant most likely surveying the scene. The Doctor stepped forward, as if greeting the stranger, holding out his hands in a show of welcoming, as well as showing that he was not armed.

“Tro po lo bwo zlo,” he intoned in the lowest voice he could manage, and Samson and Gemma giggled. He sounded like a child performing an embarrassingly inept impression of an authority figure. The other onlookers, much less accustomed to encountering aliens and hearing the Doctor vocally make a fool of himself, looked on with confusion and rapture.

“What are you doing, skipper?” Samson asked, still chuckling.

“Apologising,” the Doctor didn’t bother looking back.

The creature removed its helmet and the crowd gasped, Samson and Gemma blinking in surprise at the alien’s staggering resemblance to a bipedal Earth rhino. The Judoon intoned back in a much deeper and more intimidating voice.

“No fo gyo,” it growled, and the Doctor stepped back a little, looking disconcerted.

“Ho flo vro...vwo...kl-oh, this is ridiculous,” he gave up and retrieved his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the Judoon’s chest and making it buzz.

The creature didn’t look impressed. “Do sko zro b-ink you are doing? I demand you cease your hostility, or I shall respond in kind!”

“Much better,” the Doctor smiled, and it was the Judoon’s turn to blink in surprise. “Universal translator should be calibrated now, we can talk properly.”

“You will tell me what I am doing in this location or I will shrimp you immediately!”

The Doctor frowned. “Hmm. That wasn’t right. Calibration must be off.” He shrugged. “Well, I suppose it hardly matters, we can understand each other.”

“You will tell me!” the Judoon threatened again, hand hovering dangerously close to its blaster pistol.

“Doctor…” muttered Gemma.

“I’ve no idea!” the Doctor beamed at the Judoon. “I’m just as confused as you are, so, how about we don’t shoot each other. Mostly because I don’t have a gun, hate the things, never carry one.” He held out his hand.

The Judoon stared down the Doctor for several seconds, nobody daring to speak or even breathe too loudly. The alien blasted air out of its nostrils several times, but the Doctor didn’t back down, break his gaze, or even let his smile fade a little. He stood, aggressively cheerful in the face of the huge creature towering over him, until finally the Judoon’s hand moved away from the blaster holster and shook the Doctor’s while some of the assembled crowd cheered.

“Good man!” the Doctor thanked the Judoon. “Now, let’s see about getting you home. Can I see your teleport please?”

The Judoon handed him a small device from inside its armour, and the Doctor examined it, looking at a tiny screen small enough that Samson and Gemma couldn’t read it from barely two feet away. He scrutinised the display, then pressed a button they couldn’t see a few times.

“Skipper…” Samson started, but Gemma cut him off.

“Shh,” she said gently. “Let him do his thing. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Does he ever know what he’s doing?” Samson looked at her with a single raised eyebrow.

“He knows what he’s doing as much as he ever does,” Gemma admitted, raising an eyebrow of her own in turn.

“Gotcha!” the Doctor exclaimed after a few minutes of tinkering, and handed the device back. The Judoon took the device, placed it back on his armour, nodded and grunted once at the Doctor, and was enveloped in light. By the time the light faded, the armoured figure was gone, and many of the onlookers were questioning whether that had actually just happened. Many of them were too drunk to care.

“Well, that went quite well,” the Doctor turned to his companions. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That was...odd,” Gemma said. “But, nothing bad happened, so I think that’s a victory.”

“Agreed. Nice work,” Samson concurred.

“Disagreed,” came a voice from above them, as the onlooking capsule descending to Earth and opened, revealing a familiar figure, hands held behind his back and tailcoat flapping behind him in the wind.

“Of course,” the Doctor sighed. “Rider.”

“Doctor,” the Rider returned the greeting with a nod.

“That was incredibly irresponsible of you,” the Doctor lectured him. “People could have gotten hurt.”

“And that was incredibly boring of _you_,” the Rider attempted to lecture back. “I was expecting some style of pitched battle with good stakes and innocent lives on the line, but you managed to avert any kind of confrontation. Very disappointing.”

His lecture was, however, ineffectual, as nobody around agreed with his point, or at least, nobody admitted to agreeing with him. Samson and Gemma stepped forward, Samson glaring and Gemma looking ready to start throwing punches, but the Doctor held them both back with a look that told them it wasn’t worth it.

“Am I ever going to convince you not to play with people’s lives for your own amusement?” the Doctor asked, not sounding hopeful about the answer.

“What would be the fun in that?” the Rider bowed as he retreated back to his TARDIS. “Life is rather meaningless without a good story to tell, wouldn’t you agree?” Without waiting for an answer he stepped inside his capsule, which faded out of sight with a wheezing groan shortly afterwards. The field was silent for a minute. The Doctor turned back to Samson and Gemma and opened his mouth to talk, but was interrupted by the singer who had distracted the siblings so effectively before.

“I dunno what just happened, but I think we can all agree to forget it,” her voice reverberated from the speakers dotting the venue. “Let’s get back to the rock! One, two, three, four!”

The rest of the band started playing again, drums crashing and guitars screaming. Samson and Gemma looked at the Doctor, looked at each other, shrugged, and turned their attention back to the band, throwing their heads backwards and forwards. The Doctor shrugged and turned his attention back to H.G. Wells.


End file.
